


Better Than Socks, Sweeter Than Treacle

by Hufflepuffandpass



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 8th year, M/M, Nightmares, Pre-Slash, Roommates, Slash, they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25231855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hufflepuffandpass/pseuds/Hufflepuffandpass
Summary: After the war and into Harry's 8th year the savior is battling only himself now.  Having been unable to sleep without being plagued with nightmare, his new dorm mate Draco offers a solution.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 237





	Better Than Socks, Sweeter Than Treacle

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this fic. I used to write A LOT of small one shots featuring many different pairings when I was a teenager, but I've never posted any of them. Notebooks full and all for me! I haven't written anything in a very long time, and this is the first one I've completed in recent history. I've been in the HP fandom for decades and read more than my fair share of fic. So, I figured it's time to put myself out there. I'm trying to get back into writing, and using my favorite pairing seemed like the best way to do so. Also, shout out to kattyshack for yelling at me repeatedly several times for months to make sure I actually wrote and posted this. You're right sometimes, I guess. I hope you enjoy!

Six months after the Second Wizarding War had ended and two months into Harry Potter’s newly created 8th year, he had hoped to be sleeping peacefully, no blood purist lunatic out for his head. That, however, is not how things work out when you’ve been hunted since birth, survived multiple near death experiences, and been a media magnet for every low and every (few as they may be) high point through your short life. Sleep did not come easily for Harry. Nightmares ripped through his mind nearly every night. He’d wake trembling and sweating.

He at least could be grateful that Mrs. Weasley, under eyes forever shadowed and smile strained, had sat next to him on the tweed print couch in the Burrow’s living room one indecently early morning after neither had slept more than about 3 hours and gently guided him through the wand movements needed for a strong noise canceling shield charm he could apply around his bed every night. He was sure every member of his unofficial adoptive family who was still living at home was sleeping better after that night, him and Molly excluded. He had yet to find a cure for the darkness that seeped through his dreams, but at least he would not disturb them, or his new roommate, anymore.

Draco Malfoy, from what Harry could tell, may be having just as many issues finding restful sleep as he was. Once retiring for bed, they would both pull their bed curtains closed, so Harry couldn’t be sure when Malfoy fell asleep for the night or when he woke, but there had been several nights when Harry had been sat up in bed, thoughts dripping residual grime from that night’s torture, and he would hear Malfoy’s uneven breathing and shifting. He seemed to still be in the denial stage, fighting the inevitable and chasing sleep. Harry was well into bargaining with the elusive Sandman, willing to do almost anything to pry some deep, dreamless sleep from his fictional fingers.

Tonight was just another in a long line for Harry, nearing 2 AM and he’d been awake behind his curtains for at least 25 minutes, muscles in his strong biceps still twitching with the memory of fighting a relentless, fierce grip. Physical exercise was something he’d explored as a cure for his demons shortly after the war, jogging (sometimes sprinting) around the pond at the Burrow, quiet push-ups on the floor beside Ron’s bed, tossing gnomes for hours in the garden, chasing Teddy around Grimmauld Place while Andy laughed, doing anything the muggle way just in the hopes that he’d be tired enough to sleep that night. It usually had no effect.

Harry shook his arms out, trying to expel the edgy feeling that lingered there, and moved to the side of his bed, legs parting the curtains. Maybe he’d chance a walk through the halls tonight. The teachers were a little more lax with the curfew for the 8ths years, but he was pretty sure wandering the castle at this time would earn more than a concerned frown from any of them.

His eyes slid to Malfoy’s bed as he heard a rustle. Just as Harry stood, cracking the window in the hopes that the chilled air would chase away the last few images of his nightmare, Malfoy’s bed curtains parted as well, the blonde pausing on his knees at the edge of his bed. Even after two months Harry was still not used to seeing Malfoy in such a personal setting. His hair was tousled, damp with sweat at the nape of his neck, revealing a few waves. He’d been wearing it differently this year, shorter on the sides, growing longer and usually swept to the side, longest tips trailing just below his ear. It looked like it would be perfect for sliding his fingers through, holding on with a strong grip. 

Harry blinked a few times, a small shake of his head and turned to look out at the sky. That seemed to be happening more and more recently the longer he spent around Malfoy. He’d find his mind wandering in History or Magic or Potions, easy to do, and his eyes would trail the movement of Malfoy’s fingers as they precisely diced a flower stem or twirled his eagle owl quill. What would those hands feel like spread across his back, fingers running down the ridge of his spine?

“Does it help,” Malfoy asked quietly, coming over to stand at the other side of the window, stripped pajama top shifted slightly to the right, showing more collar bone than he probably intended.

“Does what help what,” Harry’s voice still holding a bit of gruff from his likely dream-induced screaming.

Malfoy turned to face Harry more fully, grey eyes catching the moonlight and shining. “Does the fresh air help you with…” He paused, crossing his arms over his chest. “Does it help you forget what you still see?” His voice was so quiet, like he was ashamed of telling a secret.

Harry frowned, a light breeze flitting through the crack in the window and ruffling his bed head. “Honestly, I haven’t really found anything that helps. I’ve tried pretty much everything. Do you think it just takes time? That we just get used to it? Not really sure I want to get used to the things I see in my dreams.” He shrugged. Although not the only conversation they had had so far this school year, this was definitely the most vulnerable.

Draco moved closer, enough so Harry could feel the low heat coming off of his crossed arms. He shifted from one foot to the other and back again, shoulders tightening. “Listen, I’m only going to offer this because it worked for me and we both, clearly, need some help to get through the night.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. Malfoy had something that could help him sleep, to not relive his worst memories, to not spiral down into wicked new twists and turns of his tortuous imagination? Why hadn’t Malfoy already been using whatever potion, meditation, or what have you if he knew of something? “I’d be very interested in giving anything a try.” 

Malfoy’s gaze dropped to the floor, out the window, to Harry’s shoulder, and at Harry’s bed before meeting his again. Voice low and barely above a whisper, he said “sleep next to me.”

Harry’s stomach tightened, his heart picking up pace. He blinked, brows lowering. Certainly he hadn’t heard Malfoy invite him to sleep with him. Clearly he’d said “sleep next to brie” or “sweep west of the sea”. Something like that. Nothing close to sharing a bed with a classmate he’d imagined kissing beneath his ear, throat flexing beneath his lips. He looked up at Malfoy, the blonde worrying his lip between his teeth and staring out the window. “Did…what did…”

Malfoy’s cheeks flushed a deep pink as he spun around, already halfway back to his bed before Harry could finish his thought. “Never mind,” Malfoy said, curtains snapping back together, hiding him from view.

Standing still, chill evening air still washing over him, Harry’s mind raced. Malfoy wanted to share a bed with him? Did he fancy Harry? Think about him the way Harry imagined the blonde? What would happen if Harry took him up on his offer? Could he restrain himself from touching the blonde? Running his hand down his arm, feeling the light dusting of fair hair against his fingertips? He’d certainly get hard in minutes being that close to Malfoy, vulnerable, sleepy, and relaxed. What if he talked in his sleep? What if his nightmares turned to fantasies that close to who he’d been desiring? Maybe he could play it off as moans of pain, moaning Malfoy’s name because he was seeing him tortured? 

Closing the window, Harry decided he would likely never get another chance to be close to the blonde. If sharing a bed, no matter how platonic and for mutual, non-sexual gain, was the closest he would ever get to Malfoy, he was going to take it. Harry walked slowly over to Malfoy’s curtained bed. Now he just had to convince Malfoy that this was still a good idea.

“Malfoy, I’m sorry I…” he shuffled his feet. “You surprised me is all. I’d like to give this a try. Thinking back on it, I did actually sleep better when I was on the run with Hermione and Ron when we shared a bed. I guess it was the thought that I was just that little bit safer from an attack or maybe that I could keep them safer if they were close enough to protect. Either way…” His breath swayed the curtains. “Can we give it a try? I think your bed might even be softer than mine anyway. Did you bring your own sheets to school?” The room was still for several thumps of his strong heartbeat. It might be too late to mend his apparent disbelief at Malfoy’s offer. “Please,” Harry murmured. 

Malfoy’s curtains parted revealing his guarded pale face. “I only offered because over the summer while I was staying with Pansy, she’d sleep next to me and it was comforting knowing that someone was there, someone could watch my back. Even though she was sleeping as well, I felt safer. Maybe this won’t work, you know, with everything that has happened between us. I’m not sure you could feel safe that close to me and unguarded.” He looked down, his expression dejected, like he yearned for that openness with Harry but knew they would never reach that level in their relationship. 

“Well, I won’t say I can offer you the same level of comfort and familiarity as your girlfriend was able to provide, but I think you’d feel safe with me. I mean, my track record is pretty good.” He stepped closer to the bed and shrugged. “And I do trust you not to hurt me in my sleep. You’ve had opportunity to do so over the last two months if that’s really what you wanted to do. And I know it’s not. You’re very different than you were be-“ 

“Pansy’s not my girlfriend.” Malfoy’s nose crinkled, his brow creasing. He shook his head, like he was trying to get the smell of rancid food from his nose. “I’m not…” He shook his head again. “No,” he said simply. He pushed the curtains further open and moved back to sit by his pillows, scooting over to leave room. “Let’s just try, okay? You can always go back to your bed if you find it too unbearable to be this close to me.”

Harry frowned, moving onto the bed and closing the curtains behind him. “Sorry I assumed about Pansy. Like I was saying, you’re very different than you were. I guess living through a war and seeing, doing everything we did will do that to a person. Thank you for offering.” He moved under the covers, opting to lay on his back so Malfoy’s high cheek bones and flowing hair weren’t in direct line of sight. 

“Yea, well. I guess you’re quite a bit different than I thought you were too. Not nearly as conceited and self-obsessed. Though don’t think I didn’t notice you bring up your ‘track record’ to convince me you could keep me safe. To be fair though, you’re not wrong.” He paused, breathing softly. “Thank you for being willing to try this.”

Harry nodded, moving his hand behind his head, sleeve riding up over his bicep. “I hope you’re right. We both need sleep. Guess we’ll see how it went in the morning. Er… later in the morning,” he grinned.

“Yea,” Malfoy rolled away onto his side. “Just don’t hog the covers or I’m kicking you out.” Harry snorted, turned on his side towards Malfoy now that the blonde wouldn’t see his eyes wander down the slight curve of his body or any dreamy far-off looks Harry may have on his face.

“Good night, Malfoy.”

“For Salazar’s sake. You’re in my bed. I’d think you could probably call me Draco now, yea?”

Harry snorted and nudged Malfoy’s shoulder. “Fair enough, Draco.” The sound felt good on his tongue. 

Draco’s breath stalled for a second. “Good night, Harry.” Harry smiled, not sure he was even tired enough now to fall back asleep. Five minutes later though, the heat from both of their bodies spreading between them, warming the (as Harry guessed) soft bedding had his muscles relaxing and eyes drifting shut. Within 20 minutes he had fallen into a comfortable, quiet slumber.

+++

His nose incessantly itched. Harry brought his hand up to rub his nose for what must have been the sixth time that morning, still half asleep. He paused, hand against his face, and finally noticed the cause of the irritation. Hair. Hair that wasn’t his. He cracked his eyes open, noticed the muted sunlight that glowed at the edge of the bed curtains. It was Saturday morning and he was in Draco Malfoy’s bed. Not only that, but he had at some point completely wrapped the blonde up in his arms, his left under Draco’s head, his right hovering at his face still. Their legs as well intertwined, warm and relaxed. 

Remaining as still as possible, Harry lifted his head enough to look at the side of Draco’s face, which was thankfully still lax with deep sleep. His pale lashes rested against his high cheeks, breath coming slow and steady. Should he pretend to still be asleep until Draco awoke? Try to detangle them and leave the bed? What if Draco woke up and caught them in this position? Would he tell Harry to get off of him? That he couldn’t share his bed again? Harry’s brow furrowed, already detesting that last possibility. It had clearly worked as intended. Harry couldn’t remember any dreams he may have had after climbing into Draco’s bed. If he had any hope of returning to a normal sleeping pattern, it looked like sleeping next to his former rival turned cuddle buddy was the best option he had found.

“I can practically hear your brain short circuiting. Relax, Harry.” Draco shifted, bringing the blanket further up his shoulder, eyes still closed. Harry’s heartbeat picked up the pace at Draco’s rough, sleepy voice. He could really get used to hearing that.

He forced himself to settle against the pillows again. “Was that a reference to muggle electricity?” Harry’s breathe gently ruffling the disheveled hair in front of his face.

Draco huffed. “I know things. Now hush. Too early.”

Glancing at the warm sunlight trying to break through the edges of the bed curtain, Harry grinned. “Yea, I don’t think it’s that early actually. You’re normally showered and out of the dorm by now.” He allowed his right arm to rest over the slight dip at Draco’s hip, assuming that’s where it was before he’d scratched at his nose.

Draco cracked an eye open turning his head back to angle toward the curtain that hid the window and sun. He shrugged, turning back around. “Know a lot about my hygiene habits, Harry?” His legs slid against Harry’s as he readjusted.

Harry took a moment to decide how to answer that. Then, Gryffindor that he is, decided direct and honest was a better approach than dismissive or sarcastic. All in or all out was his standard approach to life after all. His nose gently bumping against the base of Draco’s neck, he said, “I know a lot of little things about you. How you take your tea, your favorite meal the Hogwarts elves serve, the flavor of chocolate you eat first from the packages your mother sends you. I know you used to use countless hair products but are letting it go more natural this year, I can only assume to distance yourself from your father’s image. That as good as you look in your fancy dress robes, you’re always more excited about a brand new pair of socks.” He paused, noticing the wave of pink working its way up Draco’s neck. “Honestly,” he paused again, the tip of his nose lightly trailing up Draco’s pale neck and resting again just below his hair line, right hand cautiously moving up the bed and resting over Draco’s rapidly beating heart, “it’s the big stuff, stories about your childhood, how you’re adapting post-war, your first kiss, favorite family tradition, things like that I would like to learn more about.” Harry squeezed Draco gently, legs pulling up to fully surround him. “I think I’d really like to know that Draco.”

The small space inside the bed curtains was still and silent for several breaths. Harry counted the strong beats of Draco’s heart. At 9, Draco rolled towards him, grey eyes meeting green, face pinker than a pigmy puff Harry had seen in Hogsmeade last weekend. The blonde’s eyes moved over Harry’s face, gliding over his lips, flicking up to his hair, and back to meet his gaze. Draco licked his lips quickly and blinked a few times. “I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming. It’s a nice change from the torture my nightmares normally put me through. A very nice change.” He brought his hand up and lightly traced the edge of his index finger down the side of Harry’s face, resting his hand against Harry’s neck.

Harry’s face was warm. Heat was racing through his whole body, tingling spasms waking him up from the outside in and back again. He moved his hand up Draco’s back, fingers moving to slid into the soft hair at the base of his neck. “Even better than a dream, Draco. At least I hope so. The day dream version of you is really good at snogging though. So I’m not sure if you can live up to that or not.” Harry grinned, gaze dropping to Draco’s lips.

Grey eyes flashed at the challenge, as they always did when Harry was on the other side of it. His hand tightened on Harry’s neck, pulling him so close their bodies pressed together at every point. Draco smirked, breathe mingling with Harry’s. “I’ll put him to shame.” He swiftly closed his eyes and closed the remaining distance between their lips. 

Harry sighed softly and tightened his grip in Draco’s hair, changing the angle of their kiss. He moved his leg between Draco’s when the blonde skated his tongue across Harry’s lips. With a quiet moan from Draco, Harry parted his lips and welcomed him with a quick nip to his lower lip. Hands roamed, discovering spots worth revisiting. 

Harry pulled back only to drop to Draco’s neck, needing to feel his lips against the corded muscles there. A gasp from Draco encouraged Harry as he nipped and sucked down the pale skin. Draco wrapped his leg up higher around Harry’s hip and pulled him in, grinding against him. “Better than a dream, right” Harry whispered breathlessly against Draco’s ear before kissing below it, moving back to his lips.

Draco captured Harry’s lips again, rolling over him and pressing him against the rumpled bed. He wove the fingers of both of his hands into Harry’s wild jet-black hair and pulled him back half an inch to speak. “Better than brand new socks.” He grinned, eyes looking darker with wider pupils and tried to kiss Harry again as the other giggled against his attack. 

Harry lightly pecked Draco’s lips again after he’d stopped giggling. “I’m glad to hear snogging me in your bed after getting more sleep than either of us have in a very long time is better than new socks.”

Draco shrugged. “It was a close call.” He rested on top of Harry, tucking his head against his chest, forehead pressed to Harry’s neck. “We’ll definitely have to gather more data before we can draw any final conclusions.” 

Harry grinned, hugging Draco tightly and kissing the top of his head. “I think that can be arranged. Can’t get rid of me now that I know you’re better than dreamless sleep and have lips sweeter than treacle tart.” They both smiled, lazily relaxing into the bed, enjoying the thrill that came with finally being fully rested and buzzing with exposed, reciprocal desire.


End file.
